The Finn at Hogwarts
by LiechLiet
Summary: Amidst the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, a certain Tino Väinämöinen joins Hogwarts for one year. Can he fit in and live out the exchange without being troubled by certain other Nordics? / Human AU, SuFin.
1. Chapter 1

**The 200th Harry Potter/Hetalia crossover! I remember when it was less than 100 ;u;**

**I went to Harry Potter Studios with my cousins the other day, and had this mad idea...**

**Human AU  
Warnings: mild swearing, boy x boy  
Pairings: SuFin**

* * *

The Finn at Hogwarts_  
_

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared unabashedly along with half of the Great Hall as a boy with a mop of blond hair tried to slip inside as discreetly as he could. Unfortunately for him, it was impossible, and as the huge doors shut with a loud _clang_ and all eyes turned to him, the new boy blushed horribly and all but ran to sit at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"New kid's in Gryffindor," Ron mumbled through a mouthful of mashed potato.  
"Swallow, then talk!" moaned Hermione, looked disgusted. "I suppose we should go and say hello to him. He's probably feeling quite out of place, joining so late."

However, after they were finished Dumbledore made his announcement about the Triwizard Tournament, and the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher made his dramatic entrance - they had just about forgotten the new boy. It was only when they found him dithering at the foot of the moving staircases that they realised he didn't know how to get to the Gryffindor common room.

From what they could see of the back of his head and neck, he had very fair skin – coupled with his head of pale hair, he looked a bit like a softer relative of Draco Malfoy.  
"Excuse me," Harry said, tapping him on the arm. The new boy turned for face them.

The first thing Harry noticed was his eyes: vivid blue, with an almost purple tone to them, framed by pale eyelashes. Their brightness made him look very alert.  
"Oh, hello there," he said, extending a hand to Harry, who had to hold back a laugh at his frankly ridiculous-sounding accent. Ron snorted rudely, and even Hermione was visibly taken aback (a change from her sulk about the discovery of house-elves in the kitchens). "I'm Tino."  
"Um… Harry." Harry shook Tino's hand, trying not to grin. You could spread that accent on toast, that was how thick it was. "Potter," he added, a little uneasily.

Tino's blue-violet orbs shifted to Harry's forehead and back to his eyes in a split-second, but if he saw the scar underneath the black-haired boy's fringe he didn't show it. Instead he stood up, offered his hand to Ron and Hermione, who shook it in turn in a friendly enough manner – even though Ron's face was beginning to go red from holding back laughter.

"'Tino', where's that name from?" he asked in attempt to distract himself.  
"I'm Finland born and raised," grinned Tino, seeming happy to be talking about his home country, "although to tell the truth, the name isn't too common there. In fact, it's weird…"  
"But living in Scandinavia, weren't you accepted into Durmstrang?" Hermione inquired with a frown. "I thought that it catered for students all over mainland Europe, not only Norway and Sweden."

At the mention of Durmstrang, a shadow passed across Tino's face, darkening his eyes, but still he smiled, albeit uneasily.  
"I attended Durmstrang, but I… wasn't particularly happy there. With some help from my friends, I sent my student file to Beauxbatons and Hogwarts in the hope that one of them would host me for a year as an exchange student –" Here his tone changed, becoming happier, " – and I was lucky enough that Professor Dumbledore allowed me to come!"

"Durmstrang's really dark," remarked Ron. "They practically train the kids as Death Eaters there."  
"My best friends still go there!" Tino replied in a slightly annoyed tone, before conceding, "but I know what you mean."

"Excuse me!" came a loud, snobbish voice. "Sorry to break up the _mother's meeting_, but you're blocking the stairs."  
"Oh, brilliant." Harry wanted to grind his teeth in irritation. "Trust Malfoy…"  
"Who's Malfoy?" asked Tino.  
"I think you'll find that _I'm _Malfoy." Draco sauntered up to the group with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Their green ties and accessories marked them out as proud Slytherins. He sneered at Harry, Ron and Hermione before eyeing Tino. "And who are you?"

"I'm Tino," the Finn said, a little hesitatingly. "Nice to meet you, Malfoy." He offered his hand, only for the Slytherin to turn up his nose.  
"I meant your _surname_, idiot! My first name's _Draco_." He rolled his eyes at his cronies, who laughed dully.

Tino flushed, but was then struck with an idea. Lips twitching upwards, he looked Malfoy straight in the eye and said, "Fine – I'm Väinämöinen," making sure to say it with his strongest Finnish accent.  
"Vayna-_what_?" Malfoy tried to look like he couldn't care less, but his plan to embarrass Tino further had backfired. "Anyway, are you Pureblood?"  
When Tino nodded, he continued, "What school did you come from?"

"What are you, the Spanish Inquisition?" interrupted Harry. "Why is Tino's background any of your business?"  
"Shut it, Scarhead, this is between me and… him," Draco snapped back, gesturing at Tino irritably when he knew he couldn't say the Finn's surname without making a fool of himself.  
"Durmstrang!" Tino said quickly, before the other two could start fighting – there was enmity between them, he could tell. "I came from Durmstrang."

Drace was now watching him suspiciously. "So if you're a _Pureblood_ and from _Durmstrang_, why are you in_ Gryffindor_?" He spat the house name as though it was something that left a bad taste in his mouth. Harry clenched his fists, hoping he wouldn't do something rash. Tino wasn't too familiar with the Hogwarts House rivalry, but he had a feeling that Slytherin and Gryffindor weren't the best of friends.

"Don't ask me," he shrugged. "That was all the talking hat said."  
Obviously dissatisfied, Draco gave the group one final scathing look before shoving past them and striding up the stairs with an air of royalty about him, Crabbe and Goyle following like thick-skulled bodyguards.

"What a tosser," grumbled Ron. Harry nodded, and even straight-laced Hermione didn't object to Ron's use of language.  
"I guess you guys aren't… friends?" Tino rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. After the very obvious display of dislike, Harry couldn't help but chuckle, and suddenly they were all laughing. Once they had gotten their breath back, Tino asked about the dormitories.

"Wait, how did you get Sorted if you weren't in the Sorting Ceremony?" asked Hermione as the group made their way to the Portrait Hole.  
"I travelled by Floo to the Great Hall earlier, and was Sorted then. The Hat spent a while wondering whether I should go in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, and even asked me which I would prefer. I got lost on the way back from the bathrooms, which was why I was late for dinner…"  
"Why did you choose Gryffindor?" asked Harry interestedly. "Just curious."

"Well… everyone knows that _you're _in Gryffindor, Harry," replied Tino, slightly embarrassed. "So it seems like a good House… but that wasn't it, of course!" he added quickly. "No, I just… I know people who would find the name Hufflepuff ridiculous," he finished, eyes downcast. "I have nothing against Hufflepuffs, but let's just say I have reasons for not wanting to sound… a certain way?"

Harry saw his confusion mirrored on his friends' faces, and wondered if Tino's English wasn't as good as it first seemed.

They got to the Common Room without any trouble, but before he went to bed, Tino insisted that he needed to write a letter.

"On his first night?" wondered Ron, as him and Harry settled into their beds. Neville was reading, and Dean and Seamus hadn't turned up yet. "Who does he have to write to already?"  
"Family?" guessed Harry. "Friends back at Durmstrang?"

Meanwhile, Tino had just pulled out a quill and ink, and was writing _Dear Berwald _at the top of a roll of parchment.

* * *

_One month later_

Tino loved staying awake through the night on a Friday. After lessons finished, he would hurry to the bathrooms early to have a sauna before anyone else even thought about taking a shower. He had been ecstatic when he'd discovered the little sauna right at the back of the student bathrooms, complete with charmed bunches of birch wood that would swat his back for him! He sat in the steam for as long as he could before finishing with a jump into the icy plunge pool, and returned to the Gryffindor common room invigorated before finishing up as much weekend homework as he could. Then he would socialise. He hadn't made any _best_ friends, but his sweet nature meant that he got on with most of his fellow Gryffindors.

Today was one such a day – it was nearly one in the morning, and everyone had drifted up to bed. Tino was snug in an armchair, reading a Finnish novel, soaking up the warmth of the embers in the fireplace. He often stayed awake until five or six in the morning, then slept until around ten. It was just something he liked to do…

_BANG!_

Tino screamed, and dropped his book. A figure was stumbling out of the fireplace!

"Tino?" croaked the figure, rubbing his glasses on the edge of his sweater. Tino's jaw dropped.

"_Berwald?_ What are you doing here?"

* * *

Harry, who was never the heaviest sleeper, was woken up by a cry. Grabbing his glasses, he realised that nobody in his dorm was awake and that the sound had come from the common room. Jumping out of bed, he opened his dormitory door and stared.

Tino was standing in the middle of the room, staring at another person, his eyes so wide they looked like they were about to burst. The person had just Floo'd into the Gryffindor fireplace, a tall bespectacled blond with a fearsomely stern face.  
"_Berwald?_" exclaimed Tino, and Harry remembered that he had a friend in Durmstrang named Berwald. He'd said he was tall and a bit scary, but Harry had passed it off as exaggeration… "What are you doing here?"

Berwald replied in a deep rumble of a foreign language, and when Tino replied he had switched too. If only Hermione were here, Harry mused, she could do some sort of translator spell. That was when he went to wake Ron, so that he could be sure he wasn't having a _seriously _weird dream.

* * *

"Had to see you," Berwald said, gazing at Tino. He spoke in Swedish, which Tino understood well enough, since he'd learnt it from the age of seven at his Muggle primary school. Quite frankly, Tino was surprised that Berwald had managed to get here, with his notoriously bad English diction. His Swedish was more eloquent, even though he was still quite short with his speech and never said ten words if two would suffice. No, never saying _one_ word if a grunt or gesture would suffice. Berwald was more comfortable with his native language and the two could easily converse in it if the Swede didn't want to speak English.

"But – did you Floo here from Durmstrang?" Tino was utterly shocked. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that his tall friend would suddenly pop up in his common room, and he'd had some pretty crazy dreams. Berwald nodded. "But why?"

"Missed you."  
"You have other friends!" spluttered Tino, even though he was secretly pleased that Berwald liked him enough to travel all the way from Scandinavia. "Lukas and Mathias –"  
"Mathias isn't my friend," Berwald said, a little sulkily. "And Lukas is cold."  
"You've known them for longer than you've known me!"  
"_You're_ my best friend."

Tino had to blush at that. "Thanks, but that doesn't explain why you came! I mean, it's the middle of the night in Norway!"  
"It's the middle of the night here."  
"How did you know I would be awake?" demanded Tino.  
"You told me in your letters." Berwald held his shorter friend's gaze coolly.  
"There must be another reason," Tino insisted, crossing his arms. "A more important reason."

Berwald stared at Tino as he processed in his mind how the next sequence of events would go, and the Finn could practically see the cogs whirring between the Swede's aquamarine eyes.

"I have… a confession," mumbled Berwald, bowing his head.  
"A confession? What, you spat in Mathias' drink again? You didn't need to come all the way to Scotland just to tell me that, because I saw you–"  
"Tino, please." Seeing the seriousness on Berwald's face, Tino quieted down, frowning in confusion. What could he possibly be confessing?

* * *

"What d'you think they're saying?" whispered Ron. Him and Harry were peering around the edge of the door, watching the conversation uncomprehendingly. Luckily for them Tino hadn't noticed the door open and close as he panicked about the sudden appearance of his friend.

"No idea," shrugged Harry. "The other guy, Berwald? He looks like he's about to say something important."  
"Harry, his face hasn't changed in expression since he popped out of the fireplace."  
"True," admitted the black-haired boy.

* * *

"I – " Berwald shut his eyes, breathed deeply, and rushed out, "IthinkI'minlovewithyou."  
"What?"  
Instead of repeating himself, Berwald simply took Tino's face in his hands and kissed him.

* * *

"Bloody hell!" hissed Ron.

* * *

Despite himself, Tino found himself leaning into Berwald's warm body. He had never thought of himself as homosexual, but from the fuzzy feeling in his chest, Tino realised that he just might love Berwald. Resigning himself to the best kiss he had had in years (his first kiss had been very disappointing – a dare at a birthday party when he was eleven, with a rather boring girl), he wrapped his arms around Berwald's neck and kissed him back. It was only when the Swede's tongue slid effortlessly into his mouth that he realised that _they were at school._ And boy, was that a mood killer.

"Mm!" he grunted, pulling away. Damn, the kicked puppy expression in Berwald's eyes was almost enough to make Tino kiss him again, but he needed to focus. "How long have… how long have you…?"  
"Since I first met you." Berwald's tone was straightforward, matter-of-fact.  
"But that was over three years ago!" gasped Tino. Had Berwald been pining for him all this time? "I'm sorry!"

Berwald frowned, and from experience Tino knew that he was confused. "For not realising, I mean! I'm so sorry if I hurt you in any way during that time!"  
"You didn't," Berwald lied. The beginning when Tino had shied away from his every look had been pretty painful, as had been the time where he had suddenly gotten very clingy to his Estonian friend. But Berwald had lived through that, with the knowledge that one day Tino would be his.

Suddenly realisation dawned on the Finn. "Is that why you always called me your wife?" he almost shouted, horrified. Berwald nodded. "I thought you were joking!"

He had been teased rotten about being called wife – part of the reason he didn't want to be in Hufflepuff. Tino didn't need to be thought of as any more fluffy, thank you very much.

* * *

"They're fighting already? I thought you had to be a couple for at least a few days before you argue!"  
"Short honeymoon period," Harry mused. The couple before them exchanged a few more sentences before embracing again. "And short disagreements."

* * *

"You have to go back home," Tino murmured into the taller boy's shoulder. "The Floo network in the castle must be monitored."  
"They would have noticed by now," responded Berwald, nuzzling Tino's soft hair, something he had fantasized about for a long time. But Tino was adamant; with one last hug, he let go of Berwald and shoved him towards the fireplace.

"I'll tell you what: I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if you can visit at Christmas." After all, Karkaroff had made it quite clear that he didn't want to lay eyes on Tino until next September after the Finnish boy had told him about his exchange trip.

"Christmas is too long," grumbled Berwald. "I miss you too much in four weeks. Christmas is two months away."  
"You can deal with it! And I'll keep sending letters, of course. How about I send photographs too?"  
Berwald stopped. "What kind of photographs?" he mumbled, all sorts of images popping into his mind. Tino flushed and punched his shoulder weakly.  
"Not _those_ type of photographs, you perv!" he cried. "Get back to Durmstrang!"

Finally accepting that he had to leave, Berwald swooped in for one last kiss before stepping into the grate, muttering a place name, throwing a handful of Floo powder and vanishing in a puff of green flames.

Tino stared at the grate for a good minute before collapsing back into his armchair, hands over his face.

* * *

Meanwhile, both Harry and Ron were at a loss for words.  
"That was… unusual," Harry stated. Ron nodded silently. When Tino suddenly leapt up and made a beeline for the dormitories, face still flushed and muttering curses to himself, the best friends had to dive into their beds and pretend to be asleep as the Finn hurriedly undressed and got into his own bed. Even though he was speaking Finnish, there were two words that Harry kept hearing: _Berwald_ and _perkele_.

* * *

One week later, at breakfast on Sunday morning, Tino was sitting with Harry, Ron and Hermione and telling them about a fight between two of his friends when they were first learning Charms at Durmstrang. Hermione had been sufficiently filled on the events of that interesting night – fortunately Tino had no idea that any of them knew.

"It turned out that the spell only went wrong because Berwald didn't say the words clearly enough, but of course –"  
"His voice _was_ pretty growly," Ron said unthinkingly, before his mouth snapped shut far too late.  
"_Ron!_" Hermione hissed. Harry shut stared down at his bacon and eggs like they were the most unique he had ever seen.

Tino blinked at Ron for a few seconds before an expression of horror began to unravel across his face.  
"What did you say?" he squeaked.  
"Nothing!"  
"You said that Berwald's voice – _how did you hear Berwald's voice?_"  
"I was just… uh…" Ron was a hopeless liar. Tino blushed harder than it seemed physically possible, and his mouth hung open, opening and closing like a fish.  
"_Perkele_," he breathed.

"Listen, Tino –" Harry cut in, trying to relieve his friend's distress, " – we did see you last Friday –"  
"_Wha-a-a-at?_"  
"But we don't think of you any differently because of it!" Harry said loudly over Tino's cry.

Steadily, Tino's face regained some of it's natural colour, but he still buried his face in his hands.  
"I am so ashamed," he moaned. "I am so sorry you had to see that…"  
"Don't be," said Hermione firmly, patting Tino on the back. "You're still the same person."  
"Thanks for understanding." Tino lifted his head and smiled feebly at the trio.

Just at that moment, the owl post arrived, and what would happen to drop onto Tino's plate but a Howler?

"This is a very cruel joke," the Finn whispered, knowing that he had to open the thing before it tore itself out of the envelope. Gingerly, he picked it up between his thumb and forefinger and slit open the top. The letter immediately began to screech it's message, much to Tino's discomfort and the other students' amusement.

"HE-E-E-E-E-E-EY TINO!_" _

The voice echoing around the room was young, male, and accented.

"IT'S YOUR BEST FRIEND MATHIAS! YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO USE THESE FOR WHEN YOU'RE REALLY ANGRY WITH SOMEONE, SO I'LL SAY THIS FIRST:_ WHY THE HELL DID YOU ONLY INVITE LOSER BERWALD TO SCOTLAND INSTEAD OF ME AND LUKAS? _NOT COOL! FREYR WANTS TO COME TOO, SO GET A ROOM FOR HIM TOO, 'CAUSE HE DOESN'T WANT TO SHARE WITH LUKAS!"

"Oh God," Tino whispered in an agonised tone.

"BUT ASIDE FROM THAT, I'M NOT ANGRY WITH YOU! YOU'RE STILL MY BEST FRIEND – WELL, LUKAS IS TOO, 'CAUSE HE GETS REALLY JEALOUS OTHERWISE – AND WE ALL MISS YOU! SEE YOU AT CHRISTMAS! OH, AND BERWALD SAYS _JEG ELSKAR DIG_!"

With that final phrase, the Howler burst into flames and the leftover ashes and tiny pieces of burnt paper sprinkled over Tino's head like so much grey confetti. The final echoes of _'jeg elskar dig'_ that reverberated around the Great Hall were drowned in the laughter of his fellow students. All Tino could do was brush the Howler residue out of his hair and wait for the laughter to end.

Once it had, Professor Dumbledore stood up.  
"Mr. Väinämöinen," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "is there something that you may perhaps like to ask me?"

* * *

**This could exist as a one-shot, but I might make it a two-shot if that's what people want. Tell me by review~!**


	2. Chapter 2

**First off, a MASSIVE thanks to everyone who faved, followed and reviewed... I didn't expect so much feedback and I'm very grateful! This chapter was a little hard to write, and I'm sorry if it seems disjointed, but I hope you enjoy more Nordic madness at Hogwarts :D**

**Oh, and just the human names to clear it up for anyone confused:**

**Iceland - Freyr Johansson  
Norway - Lukas Johansson  
Denmark - Mathias Køhler  
Sweden - Berwald Oxenstierna  
Finland - Tino Väinämöinen**

* * *

_The First Task_

"That was a Swedish Short-Snout?"  
"Yes," repeated Ron. Honestly, being the brother of a dragon expert wasn't always the best. "Why are you so interested anyway?"  
"Just wanted to check!" trilled Tino. He was nervous for poor Harry, who would be battling his own dragon soon enough, and the Finn was channelling that negative energy into being overly peppy. "You see, I want to tell Berwald about it, and if I'm going to send a letter all the way to Durmstrang I should have the right dragon breed!"

"Plus, Berwald is Swedish so it would be of more interest to him?" Hermione guessed. Tino nodded, looking slightly surprised, but it was definitely unfounded. After all, in the aftermath of the officially dubbed 'Berwald Incident' Tino had been too embarrassed to say more than the simplest things about his best friend, and what was more simple that his nationality?

_Around half an hour later_

"The Hungarian Horntail!" Ron exclaimed, staring at the great beast that Harry was about to face. The pair weren't speaking but even that couldn't mask the horror on the redhead's face.  
"I know a Hungarian!" Tino said nervously, trying to distract his friend. "Yeah, Elizabeta Hedervary - lovely girl, but she's the scariest witch alive if you cross her! She's half-blood, but that only makes her worse because she combines Muggle objects with magic to create the ultimate weapons." He unconsciously rubbed the back of his head where he had once been whacked by her Charmed frying pan.

"Bet my dad would love to meet her..." Ron muttered, eyes on the slowly emerging figure that was Harry. He looked stunned - but who wouldn't, coming out onto a pitch surrounded by hundreds of screaming teenagers?  
"Oh no!" squeaked Hermione, who was sitting on Tino's other side, hands clenched over her mouth.

Tino saw Harry draw his wand and shout a spell. The whole enclosure seemed to hold it's breath, and for a second Tino thought that Harry's plan, whatever it was, had failed - when suddenly, with a _whoosh_, his broomstick soared over their heads and into Harry's waiting hand. As the final champion mounted the Firebolt, Tino leapt to his feet and cheered along with the rest of his supporters.

* * *

_The Thursday before the Christmas Holidays_

Despite the fact that Christmas was fast approaching, the Gryffindor common room was by no means empty. Fred and George were plying their trade of Canary Creams and other sneaky surprises hidden in seemingly-innocent food around groups of people chatting, playing games, doing homework, all of the usual after-school activities. Now that Harry and Ron had reconciled, the trio were enjoying themselves amongst their housemates when the fire, which had been crackling merrily, died down. Harry took it upon himself to restart it, and was reaching for the poker when suddenly, in a huge burst of green flames, four figures tumbled out of the fireplace and landed in a heap on the plush carpet.

The first three were just a tangle of long limbs, blond hair and luggage - and was that a violin case? - but the fourth person managed to stand up with relative ease. He looked around first-year age, and once on his feet he brushed down his relatively smart white shirt, brown jacket, and chinos.

"And that is what happens when four people Floo at once," he stated in a bored, accented voice, running his hands through his white-blond hair to rid it of the worst of the ashes. When the rest of the common room only stared, he stared back and asked, "What, were you expecting something?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Tino was in the library, looking for books that would help him with his Potions homework. He wasn't terrible at the subject, but since Snape seemed to have a natural dislike for all things Gryffindor, Tino wanted to do as well as he could, so that Snape wouldn't have a valid reason to hate him. He was just using his wand to float a large book down from a high shelf when -

"_TINO! I'M HERE!_"

The Finn jumped and the spell was broken, leaving the book to fall and hit him on the head. Wincing and bending down to pick it up, Tino saw a group of people approaching him out of the corner of his eye. That voice had sounded so much like Mathias, but that was impossible! Term hadn't broken up yet, and he had specifically told them to arrive on the Friday night - it was Thursday afternoon! But when he stood up, his fears were confirmed: the Nordics were here.

Mathias jumped on him first, pulling him off his feet into a rib-cracking hug. He was wearing a casual rugby shirt and jeans, and his hair was as spiky as ever. A huge camping rucksack was strapped to his back.  
"You've been gone so long!" the Dane cried. "We've all missed you so much!"  
"Ah, thanks - " Tino gasped, struggling to breath. Lukas rectified this by giving Mathias a stern smack across the back of the head.  
"You're suffocating him, idiot," said the Norwegian. He looked exactly the same as he had the last time Tino had seen him, nearly five months before, from his sailor-themed clothes right down to his blank facial expression. Once Mathias relinquished his death-grip, Lukas looked Tino up and down and nodded in greeting - he was never the cuddly type.

From behind him Freyr raised his hand in a little wave. Tino noticed that a few feet away, a gaggle of first-year girls were all gazing at him, clutching each other and whispering behind their hands. When the Icelander glanced over at them, they all blushed scarlet and fled to the other end of the library. Tino couldn't help but laugh at that before he was enveloped in a warm embrace, and he didn't have to look up to know who it was.

"I've missed ya," Berwald mumbled into his hair, and Tino coloured a little before grinning.

"I've missed you too, I've missed all of you!"

Once the hug was over (well, over by Tino's standards, since Berwald probably would have been happy holding him for an hour or more) Tino fixed them all with an accusing glare. "But obviously none of you own calendars, because I specifically told you to come on _Friday_! And what day is it today? _Thursday_! I still have classes tomorrow!"

"Can't you ditch them?" asked Mathias. "We ditched for you!"  
"I'm not condoning that! Really, you should all be going home!"  
"Told ya he'd say that," Berwald said with a sigh. "Said the same when I came in October."

"Um, sorry," came Harry's voice, and Tino noticed with a start that Harry (as well as what looked like half of Gryffindor) had followed his friends and were hovering a few steps back. Madame Pince was looking very irritated at the sheer number of people crowding her library. The black-haired boy stepped forward, gaze flicking rather awkwardly between Tino, Mathias and Berwald. "I don't want to interrupt, but -"  
"Speak English!" someone called, before being furiously shushed by Madame Pince.

"Ah, of course!" Tino turned to his fellow Nordics. "You heard him, guys..."  
"Tol'ya he'd say tha'-"  
"Berwald, I sort of meant for Mathias to keep attempting to convince me. Not that he'll succeed of course!"  
"Ah. S'rry."  
"Oh Tino, skip your classes for us!" beseeched the Dane, throwing his arms out and fixing Tino with a baby-blue-eyed gaze, which ellicited a few giggles from the group of Gryffindors.  
"No!" Tino was generally an accommodating boy, but this time he was putting his foot down. "I've come here to study, and I will study. You can either go home, or you can... well, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will think of something for you to do."  
At this, Lukas raised a single, blond eyebrow. "You're taking us to the headmaster?"

Many jaws dropped at the soft, low voice, which was the complete opposite of what they had expected, judging by appearances.

"I have to," shrugged Tino. "He was kind enough to let you guys come for the holidays, and asked me to bring you to him when you arrived. I have to respect that." Then he paused, and chuckled nervously. "But I don't know the way to his office..."

"I can take you," offered Harry, sensing an opportunity to perhaps learn a bit more about these strange Scandinavians.  
"Oh, would you? You're great, Harry!" Tino thanked him profusely. "Come on, guys."

Once Harry, Tino and the unexpected guests had left, the rest of the crowd was expelled from the library, since Madame Pince had no use for them. She'd been watching the conversation too, of course. What else is there for a librarian to do all day, aside from listen to gossip?

* * *

"Wait, so you're _definitely_ Harry Potter?"  
"Yes." Why did this Mathias Køhler keep asking him that? And what kind of question was, 'so you're definitely Harry Potter'? What would he have done if Harry had replied, "Actually, I'm not sure"? Harry had almost been tempted to do it just to see the look on the Dane's face.  
"I just can't believe it!"  
"We're all very aware of that," interrupted Lukas Johansson, the stony-faced Norwegian boy. So far, Harry didn't know what to make of him - his soft blond hair and hairpin looked almost feminine, but there was something about him, along with his sharp features and deep blue eyes, gave him an intimidating aura that wasn't even shared by Berwald, who the most righteously scary of all.

Once they reached the entrance, Harry turned to Tino. "What's the password?"  
"Password?" After a second of blankness, Tino groaned. "Oh no, the password! I forgot that you need the password to get into his office, and I don't know it!"

"Can ya guess't?" asked Berwald, eyeing the huge guarding statues. The Finn just slapped his forehead in self-deprecation.  
"Maybe we can force our way in!" suggested Mathias, making to kick the statue on the left, only to be halted by a glare from Lukas which clearly said _don't even think about it._

"Didn't he tell you what it was when you last saw him?" asked Harry, remembering the times where he had been required to go to the headmaster's office. "Or maybe he hinted at it. Dumbledore has a pretty sweet tooth, so the password is generally a type of sweet," he added.

There was a pause, before Freyr Johansson, Lukas' younger brother who hadn't spoken a word since the common room, said, "Salmiakki."

The statues moved to allow the group through, and the five older boys all goggled at Freyr.

"Tell us how you knew that!" demanded Mathias.  
"He's my younger brother, of course he's smart."  
"Freyr! What on Earth?!"  
"How did you know the password?" frowned Harry. Knowing it was one thing, of course, but it sounded like a nonsense word! How did this foreign first-year know it?

"You said it was a type of sweet," explained Freyr. "Professor Dumbledore would have changed it to something that Tino knows - well, is _supposed_ to know. And the most famous Finnish sweet is everyone's favourite disgusting salty liquorice, salmiakki. There you have your password. Were you expecting something cooler?"

"Good thinking," said Lukas in a completely emotionless tone, so much that Harry had to run the phrase over in his head again before realising that it was actually a compliment.

"I can't believe I didn't get that!" cried Tino. "I'm so stupid!"  
"Not," said Berwald instantly.  
"Oh Sve, you don't have to be so nice to me. I know I'm stupid."

"Guys, are we going in or not?" Mathias beckoned to the archway excitedly, evidently curious about what lay within.  
"I'll just go then," said Harry quickly. Tino thanked him again and he got a slap on the back from Mathias, a nod from Berwald, an inclination of the head from Freyr and a stare from Lukas. As he hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, he prepared himself to be bombarded with questions.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Väinämöinen," smiled Dumbledore, "and friends." He seemed completely unsurprised at the four strangers.

"Professor Dumbledore, I am _so _sorry that my friends have turned up early!" Tino exclaimed, clasping his hands together worriedly. "If you want them to go home, of course -"  
The headmaster raised a hand, and the Finn fell silent.  
"What's done is done," said Dumbledore kindly. "And since there are already four sleeping bags set up in your dormitory for them, there is no need to send them all the way back to Durmstrang."

Mathias grinned. "Thanks! Professor," he added after a subtle poke in the ribs from Lukas.

"But sir, I still have all my lessons tomorrow..."

"I'm sure your teachers will accommodating. It may be useful to them to have different feedback and so on... either way," Dumbledore continued with a flap of his hand, "I can assure you that no teacher will tell them to leave the classroom should your friends decide to accompany you."

_Meaning Dumbledore will _make_ them put up with these guys_, thought Tino, feeling a little guilty but happy nonetheless.

Next, the elderly man turned to the rest of the group.  
"I've reviewed your student files. Mathias Køhler, I take it?" he asked Mathias, who nodded and grinned.  
"That's me!"  
"I see that you are an energetic young man - I need not imagine what life you'll inject into this holiday. My only wish is that you do not cause too much extensive damage to the castle," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Mathias gave a mock-salute in reply.

"Lukas Johansson." The Norwegian held the headmaster's gaze, his dark blue eyes unblinking. "I should think you would enjoy a chat with our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Hagrid."  
Lukas said nothing, but there was surprise in his expression. Tino didn't know too much about Lukas' private life, only that he was a little more than eccentric when it came to magical creatures. Somehow Dumbledore had found that out...

"Freyr Johansson." Dumbledore spoke to the youngest Nordic boy in a friendly tone. "You surprised me by coming here with friends older than yourself. You may attend Mr. Väinämöinen's classes with them, or you may attend the first-year classes if you wish."  
"I'll go with them," said Freyr immediately, before dropping his gaze slightly embarrassedly.  
"Very well. You do seem to be a bright young man in any case.

"And last, but not least, Berwald Oxenstierna." While Freyr blushed from Dumbledore's praise, the old man turned to the tallest boy. His previously light-hearted tone and expression became slightly more serious. "I sense within you a kindred spirit, and so I will offer some advice: although one must carefully consider his actions, he must also not wait too long, lest his opportunity pass him."

Berwald stared back, mind racing as he turned the words over and over in his mind.  
"Thank y'," he said finally, trying not to mumble as much as he usually did.

The quiet bubble of silence was broken by Mathias' laugh. "Sorry, but this feels like an epic novel or something! What are you going to do, Sve, go on an adventure?" he teased the taller boy.  
"So disrespectful," muttered Lukas. Dumbledore didn't seem offended though.  
"Ah, the carefree nature of youth," he chuckled. "Well, off you pop. I suppose you'll be wanting dinner - it's a good thing that there is enough space on the Gryffindor table to fit a few more."

* * *

By the time they reached the Great Hall, the news of the new arrivals had spread practically all over the school. They attracted a lot of stares as they sat down.

"It's like being famous!" laughed Mathias as they tucked into sausages and Yorkshire puddings, and Tino realised how he'd missed the Dane's unfailing good humour (unless he was furious. That was a tale for another day).  
"I don't think I'd like being famous," murmured Freyr, trying to ignore the blatant lovesick gazes of first-year girls up and down the table.  
"Don't worry, I don't think it'll be like this every night," said Tino after swallowing a mouthful of food. "Once your novelty has worn off, you'll be the same as any other person. Plus, most people will be going home on Saturday for the holidays. Only the ones going to the Yule Ball... the Yule Ball!"

Tino smacked his forehead again, and Berwald reached across the table to pull his hand away from his head. He didn't want the Finn to sustain some sort of brain damage from repeatedly hitting himself! Tino, on the other hand, blushed scarlet.  
"Berwald!"  
"Wha'?"  
"We're in public!" he hissed, jerking his hand out of the Swede's and busying it with his fork, prodding at bits of food self-consciously. Berwald just blinked uncomprehendingly.

"As I was saying, I totally forgot to tell you about the Yule Ball! It's going to happen while you guys are staying here, and you probably didn't pack any suitable clothes or anything!"

"You shouldn't make assumptions," declared Lukas, who had finished his meal astonishingly quickly and was inspecting the fingernails on his right hand. "I packed dress robes for us all, including you, Tino."  
"What?" the four other boys exclaimed in unison.

"Don't look so surprised. I have better foresight that all of you put together. Surely you know that by now."

* * *

Later that night, after all of them had been subjected to heavy questioning, the Nordics managed to escape the Gryffindor common room and get into the empty dormitory. As Dumbledore had promised, there were four squashy purple sleeping bags laid out on the floor, ready for the guests. Mathias immediately threw himself onto one, claiming it as his own, and groaned, "I'm exhausted! And man, these things are comfy..."

"We all are, so do us a favour and be quiet so we can all get to sleep," said Lukas harshly, sitting down on the sleeping bag beside Mathias. Freyr just disappeared into the bathroom to get changed without a word.

Tino looked from the sleeping bags to his own bed. "I feel kind of bad, letting you guys sleep on the floor when I have such a big bed," he sighed. "Maybe I could use a sleeping bag, while someone has my bed? In fact, I'm pretty sure that two could fit!"  
"Nah, we're fine right here," yawned Mathias, "aren't we Norge?"  
"You're just too lazy to get up. But yes, we are fine here," agreed the Norwegian.  
"Oh, you guys. Berwald, do you want my bed?"

Berwald reddened. Was Tino suggesting that they share a bed? Was it too early in their relationship for that? Not that Berwald minded of course, but he was trying to be considerate towards Tino. He remembered Dumbledore's words from earlier - 'although one must carefully consider his actions, he must also not wait too long, lest his opportunity pass him' - and realised that they could apply in this situation.

"Okay," he nodded. "D'ya want to get in first? Just so I don't take up too much space..."  
"Wait, what?" First Tino was confused, but then it dawned on him what Berwald had understood from his question. "Oh, I didn't mean share!" he laughed, his cheeks tinged pink. Really now! But the look on Berwald's face after the words left his mouth, the slightly open mouth and the shocked eyes, made Tino feel so instantly awful that he amended himself with, "Well, I suppose the bed is big enough..."

* * *

When Harry and Ron came up a few hours later, they were gobsmacked by what they saw.

Mathias, the boy with the spiky hair, was spread-eagled on top of his sleeping bag, wearing a nothing but pair of faded tracksuit bottoms as pyjamas. His mouth was hanging open and he was snoring ever so slightly.

Beside him was the spooky Norwegian boy, lying on his side facing away from Mathias. It was hard to tell, but it looked like he was lying poker-straight. Even in sleep, his face was blank.

Next to him was his younger brother, who was curled up into a little ball. He looked even younger asleep, but there was a certain ethereal charm to him that didn't leave any wonder why most of the first-year girls were in love with him already.

But it was in Tino's bed where the most mind-blowing scene was: Berwald, with his arm around Tino. Sleeping in the same bed. The Swede wasn't as intimidating now; in fact, with his face (now free of glasses which only added to his hard appearance) now almost pressed against Tino's blond hair, breathing gently and with a hand floppily slung over the Finn's shoulder, he looked almost vulnerable. Tino himself looked completely at ease in Berwald's arms.

As Harry and Ron tried to get ready for bed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb their guests, a task that proved difficult now that the floor was so crowded, they discovered something that had to bring a smile to their faces.

Tino chattered, Berwald rumbled, Freyr murmured, Mathias bragged and Lukas snapped. In other words, all five Nordic boys talked in their sleep. Incessantly.

* * *

**Jeez Louise, this thing is actually becoming a multichapter fic. **

**I had so many ideas for what was going to happen on the Friday and the weekend, but it would have been too long! Plus, I'll be completely offline for the next week and wanted to give you lovely people something to tide you over until I get round to updating anything. So many plot bunnies, so little time D:**

**Oh, and Tino was supposed to call Berwald 'Sve' in that one scene. Since they're all from different Nordic countries, they sometimes call each other that country name as a kind of nickname. Same thing with Mathias calling Lukas 'Norge'.**

**Speaking of Lukas, I know that in Waiting and Updating I called him 'Christian', but I've been persuaded by the majority of the fandom to start calling him Lukas. Freyr will remain Freyr forever though! And if you've read Waiting and Updating by any chance, you'll also recognise the sleep-talking bit. That's just my kooky headcanon :3**

**As a final touch, what do _you _think should be fem!Sealand's human name? Vote on my poll!**

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, my love and thanks for those who have reviewed, faved and followed!**

**Secondly, this chapter is kind of full of Norway. He's a bit of a troll :P**

**Thirdly, this fic is getting longer by the minute! I hope you guys won't get tired of it!**

**Thanks in advance for reading, and enjoy~**

* * *

Harry shifted groggily - it wasn't time to get up yet, but the room was full of noise. People talking, he realised after a few seconds. People talking in a different language. Tino and his friends. In his half-awake state he didn't particularly care what they were saying, intent on getting some more sleep, but if he had been able to understand them, he would have heard a conversation that went something like this:

"Move your lazy backside, Mathias."

"We'll be late."

"Hey, we've got plenty of time! What is it with you Swedes and your obsession with being on time? I bet you were _born_ early!"

"I was two weeks late."

"Oh, so now you're just making up for it by being - "

"Ouch!"

"Sorry, Freyr! Guys, keep it down! I don't want you to wake everyone else up!"

"The redhead is drooling."

"Sve -"

"He won't wake up."

"Can we just go, please? I don't want to run into any more girls..."

After more scuffling, the dormitory was finally quiet again, the silence punctured only by the measured breathing of his roommates and the occasional snore from Ron. Harry drifted off to sleep again, wondering faintly where they were going so early.

* * *

"Did you hear him? He was calling me stupid!"

Nearly an hour later, the Nordics were eating breakfast with Harry, Ron, Hermione and various other people who had attached themselves out of curiosity. Mathias, they had noticed, was the most talkative, and was in the midst of moaning about his headmaster, Karkaroff.

"Why did he make you visit him?" Harry asked.

"He was angry that they were skipping school to come to visit me," said Tino ruefully. "He hates me."

"Not true," Berwald said before anyone had a chance to even breathe. This was his standard reaction to anything Tino said about himself that was even vaguely negative. And since the Finn was quite modest, he often cut people off just when they were about to speak to defend his self-proclaimed wife.

"He completely overreacted," railed Mathias. "I mean, he's the Headmaster and he's over here! Technically, he's skipping too!" Ignoring Lukas's head-shake of amazement at how flawed one's logic could be, he continued, "He summoned us to his boat and gave us this great big lecture about how terrible we were, when none of the teachers actually care what we do 'cause they're all so hooked on this Triwizard Tournament!"

"He wasn't that bad," said the Norwegian impassively, finishing his piece of toast in a single bite and swallowing it dry. Onlookers couldn't help but wince slightly at the pain his throat must be going through.

"Not to you! You're his golden boy, after Krum! All you got was -" Mathias put on a gruff voice to imitate the older man, "'_I expected better of you, Johansson'_! Then you were off the hook, but the rest of us weren't so lucky!"

"He didn't even look at me," sighed Tino. Berwald patted him on the shoulder.

"_'Mathias Køhler, why am I not surprised?'_" growled the Dane, much to the amusement of the other people at the Gryffindor table, even though he himself was deadly serious. "_'Only you would do something so utterly reckless! Thoughtlessly truanting, __corrupting the younger children by dragging them on your wild adventures! Although_ I suppose you had Oxenstierna here think out the plan for you. The brains and the brawn, the two of you, such troublemakers.'" Mathias slammed his hands on the table, rattling the dishes. "He wasn't even subtle! I'm sure it's breaking some rule somewhere to insult your students!"

"Are you coming to Potions with Tino?" asked Hermione, sounding a little worried. She could only imagine how Snape would react to such a loud boy - he would probably deduct points from Gryffindor as punishment.

"Oh yeah! I wanna see how you do things here! Man, I could eat this all day," grinned Mathias, stuffing more bacon and eggs into his mouth. "What do you call this again?"

"Cooked English breakfast."

"I want more -"

"You'll clog your arteries," said Freyr unexpectedly, who had been eating in silence until that moment, his mauve eyes steadfastly trained on his plate.

"Then you'll die, and Tino will be the only one at your funeral," Lukas added. Harry was once again struck with how rude the Norwegian was. Mathias didn't seem to mind though - either the insults flew right over his head, or he was used to it.

"Tino's n't going," grunted Berwald in a slightly possessive tone. "Ya don't d'serve't."

"Aren't you being a bit harsh?" asked Hermione concernedly. "I'm sure if Mathias did die, not that you will of course," she added quickly, "I'm sure lots of people would come to his funeral."

Mathias just laughed while his fellow Scandinavians shook their heads and Tino rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"They're always like this," he explained to the Britons while his fellow Nordics started bantering again. "They've all known each other since they were about five, so they're practically like brothers, and brothers tease each other, right?"

"Don't I know it," muttered Ron.

* * *

Snape strode into the room, and all talking ceased immediately as usual. "I have been _informed_," drawled the Potions teacher, his black-eyed gaze flicking over his students with dislike, "that I must put up with _four extra troublemakers_ in my lesson today. Would those troublemakers make yourself known, if you _please_."

"I think he means us, Norge," hissed Mathias. His attempt at a quiet statement echoed rather embarrassingly around the gloomy classroom. Berwald, Freyr, Lukas and Mathias stood up from where they had taken chairs from the back of the room and clustered around Tino's desk.

Snape eyed each one of them. "You four will sit at the desks _furthest_ away from me," he ordered. "You will work through the _textbook_ until the end of the lesson, when I will _translate_ your pieces of parchment to make sure that there has been no _inappropriate tomfoolery_. You will not _talk to_ anyone, nor _look at_ anyone. You will not _disrupt_ this lesson any more than you have _already_ done so by simply _being here_. Do you _understand_?"

"Yep!" beamed Mathias, showing Snape a happy mouthful of straight white teeth. Berwald and Freyr nodded, but Lukas just gazed off into the middle distance like he hadn't heard a word that the darkly-clad teacher had said.

"Is that how they teach you to reply to a professor in Durmstrang?" scowled Snape. "I want to hear, _'Yes sir'_."

"Yes sir," chorused all three but Lukas, staring at their shoes (trainers of various brands, since they were wearing their own clothes). Mathias was considerably subdued after his attempt at a friendly greeting was shot down like a clay pigeon.

"You!" Snape clicked in front of the Norwegian boy's eyes. "Look at me when I talk to you, boy."

Lukas looked up, his eyes slowly drifting to meet Snape's. He seemed to take in every inch of the professor's appearance - from his jet-black robes to his lank hair - before shifting his weight onto one leg and staring. Snape was a little surprised, perhaps a bit unsettled, but he didn't miss a beat.

"Go, all of you, back of the classroom." He waved his hand irritably, before finally starting to write the instructions for the actual lesson on the blackboard.

Berwald ended up sharing a desk with Freyr. He didn't mind, since the small, pale boy was actually quite a good friend of his, and wouldn't annoy him. The Swede craned his neck so that he could watch Tino at the front, taking notes from the board and whispering with his partner. Berwald felt a small but strong prick of jealousy that he was stuck back here while some other person was enjoying his wife's company.

Suddenly a thick textbook fell onto the desk in front of each Nordic boy, along with a quill and a roll of parchment. "Start on chapter one. I expect you to have reached chapter five at the _very least_ by the time the lesson is over. Keep your mouths shut while you do so."

* * *

_Fifty minutes later_

As his real students were reaching the final stages of their potion-making, Professor Snape summoned the parchment he had given to those pesky Durmstrang gatecrashers. There was a cry of shock from the ridiculously cheerful one with the idiotic hair, and Snape sought out the piece of work with the messiest handwriting. It was a brain-numbingly confusing mixture of full sentences, notes, doodles and random squiggles that looked like someone had been holding a pen while having an epileptic fit. With a grind of his teeth, Snape cast a translating spell.

The words formed coherent English sentences, luckily. The proper work was good enough, but there were lots of notes to Lukas Johansson, most of which comprised of calling him 'Norway' and repeating things such as 'What question are you on?' and 'Can you help me?' an irritating amount of times.

The next sheet was full of neat lines of blocky handwriting. There was even a name on the top, _Berwald Oxenstierna, _who Snape assumed was the bespectacled one. His translation also became clean English, and was purely classwork with the odd doodle of a star or a small cartoon face with a mop of hair, big eyes and a wide smile. Snape would have given the work an 'Exceeds Expectations' if he wasn't holding a natural grudge against the boy for even being in the school in the first place.

The next piece of work was written in rather plain handwriting, neat and slightly slanting. The name at the top said _Lukas Johansson. _However, when Snape cast a Norwegian translation spell, only about a quarter of the words turned into English. Irritated, he tapped the parchment again with a Danish translation - the previous translation vanished and a set of different words became English. Two different languages? A Swedish translation yielded some more, but with a frustrated curl of his lip Snape realised that this work was effectively unreadable. There were even words with letters from a different alphabet. This Johansson boy was obviously some sort of prankster.

The final sheet had nothing but a name, a date, and a big sketch of a bird on it.

"Mr. Johansson and company," announced Snape (since that troublemaking boy had the only name that really stuck in his head). "Come to my desk _now_."

"What grade did I get?" asked Mathias excitedly. He seemed to be under the impression that his handwriting had been on the better side of legible. Snape shot him a silencing look before drawing a breath in preparation to speak. Most of the class had finished and were listening to the exchange while they tidied up.

"I am very disappointed in the standard of work from you four. What you handed in ranged from boring to rambling to downright ridiculous, and some of you didn't even bother with the questions at all." He fixed his eyes on the youngest boy, whose white-blond bed-head made Snape feel physically disgusted of how the standards of personal grooming had slipped over the years. "This was not an Art Class, Freyr Johansson!" he snapped.

"Excuse me." Lukas finally broke his silence, and heads swivelled to try and see what the most eccentric of the guests would say to the Potions professor. "My brother is only eleven years old. I don't think he could have bee expected to complete so much fourth-year work."

"So he _does_ speak," said Snape dryly, mockery practically dripping from his tone in the same way that grease was practically dripping from his hair. "I suppose you're the joker who decided to write your answers in that horrific mishmash of languages?"

Lukas shrugged. "You weren't going to mark it."

Tino, who was listening while he packed his quills and books back into his bag, drew a worried breath. Lukas was going too far! Who knew what Snape would do to punish him?

Snape looked between the two boys, before his cynical gaze returned to the elder. "You two boys are brothers?" When he received nods, he continued "And I suppose you are about to tell me that he looks uncannily like his mother, while you take after your father?" It was obvious from his tone that Snape was ridiculing them, playing on the fact that the two brothers didn't look alike at all.

"You took the words right from my mouth, sir," Lukas countered in a deadpan tone, either misunderstanding or ignoring the sarcasm. Someone at the back of the classroom sniggered, and once again Snape was caught off guard.

"This lesson is over. Get out of my sight. And you - " he spat right at the Norwegian boy, " - can be sure that your headmaster will hear about this."

* * *

True to his word, Snape did strike up a conversation with Karkaroff at the teacher's lunch table.

"You are aware of the boy Lukas Johansson?" His tone was biting, he was raring to tell his old friend all about that troublesome fourth-year.

"Johansson?" Karkaroff looked up from his plate, an odd expression on his face. It looked almost... proud! "Of course I am aware of him. A brilliant boy if I ever taught one. Very good family, you know, and an excellent frame of mind. He is a little strange, but I'm sure he is destined for greatness. Er, what were you saying about him?"

Snape was so utterly shocked that whatever he was about to say left him. Muttering something about it not mattering, he returned to his meal with a scowl.

* * *

Lukas was on his way to the Gryffindor table when, as he walked past the Ravenclaw table, he passed a girl with long, dirty-blonde hair, reading a colourful magazine. The word 'Nargle' jumped out at him. A magazine... that believed in the fairy folk? That didn't dismiss them as nonsense?

"Excuse me." He tapped the girl's shoulder. She spun round, her big silver-grey eyes wide. "Which magazine is that?"

"Oh, this? The Quibbler." Her tone was dreamy, but Lukas could tell that she wasn't an airhead. There was intelligence in her eyes. "My father's the editor," she added proudly, before looking Lukas up and down and exclaiming, "Oh, you're friends with Tino Väinämöinen, aren't you? Everyone's talking about how you all fell out of the Gryffindor fireplace yesterday. My name's Luna Lovegood, by the way."

Lukas nodded, and she brushed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear (which was sporting an earring that looked like it was made from a piece of cork). "How long are you staying for?"

"The whole holiday."

"Oh, so you'll be going to the Yule Ball? You _are_ lucky."

"Why?" Lukas frowned very slightly. "Why aren't you going?"

"It's only for fourth-year and above, unless you're invited by someone older. That's why my friend Ginny Weasley is able to go..."

"Well, why don't you come with me?" Lukas asked. He didn't think of it as a romantic question, just the granting of a wish of a person who shared the Sight with him. It was only courteous. And from the way Luna smiled, she appreciated the gesture.

"Oh, thank you very much. I'll have to go home to get a dress, but I suppose I'll be back by Monday. I'll meet you outside the Gryffindor common room on the night of the ball, then?"

Once all their arrangements had been made, Lukas strolled away from the table, content that on the night of the Yule Ball he wouldn't be completely surrounded by idiots - he would have Luna to make intelligent conversation with.

* * *

"Were you talking to Loony Lovegood?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food as soon as the Norwegian sat down. "Why?"

"Loony?" Lukas thought for a moment. "Doesn't that mean crazy? Why would you call her crazy? _Mathias, get that fork away from my face!_"

"She _is_ crazy," Ron spluttered. "Didn't you see her weird magazine? Full of elves and fairies and all that rubbish! She says she sees them as well!"

"Does seeing fairies make you crazy?" Lukas' face darkened. Suddenly all his features - his sharp nose, angled jaw and deeply-set eyes - looked slightly threatening. "Does that mean that _I_ am crazy?"

Ron choked on his drink, and looked towards Mathias, who was sitting next to Lukas and waving various pieces of cutlery holding different culinary delights on them at him, trying to feed him. The Dane hadn't even blinked when the Norwegian had announced that he saw fairies. "Mathias!"

"Eh? Oh, Norge's fairy friends?" Mathias shrugged. "He's always seen them." His tone wasn't teasing or mocking, like Ron would have expected it to be. It was undecorated, as if he was simply stating his age or how many siblings he had. A look at Berwald, Tino and Freyr, still calmly eating away, confirmed that they had obviously heard Lukas' statement before - or they had grown up knowing it. "Easy, Norge, he was only joking!"

* * *

"And it was hilarious - " Tino was telling Berwald a story as they walked to the bathrooms, intending to sauna together, before he was rudely interrupted with a shout of,

"You, Finn!"

"Malfoy?" Tino turned, sighing audibly. The Slytherin was always trying to pick fights with him, and had taken to calling him 'Finn' after his little surname mispronunciation blunder of Tino's first night at Hogwarts. "What do you want?"

Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, eyed the two Nordics, with their towels slung over their arms. "Where are you going?" he asked haughtily, as if it were his right to know.

"If you must know, the bathrooms." Tino rolled his eyes. "We're going to sauna. Now, we'll be going -"

"You're going to sauna? Together?" Malfoy wrinkled his nose, looking slightly confused.

"S'Finnish tradition," rumbled Berwald, fixing the pale-haired boy with a glare. Obviously this person bore nothing but ill will towards his wife, and as a good husband it was only right that he protect Tino.

"Naked, in a sauna, together?" Malfoy's pale cheeks coloured a little, and he scowled viciously. "That's disgusting! You couldn't be a bit more discreet about it, could you? Or are they just that liberal in Finland?" he asked rudely. Even Crabbe and Goyle looked a little disturbed, although Berwald didn't know why.

"What - oh, you're obscene, Malfoy!" Tino blushed madly, but he was angry as well as embarrassed. "The sauna is traditionally a holy place, I'll have you know! And it's perfectly natural for friends to sauna together! It isn't my fault if all the English are prudes!"

Berwald looked from Malfoy to Tino with a slight frown on his face, trying to work out what they were fighting about.

"Come on Sve," huffed Tino, taking Berwald's arm and practically dragging him down the corridor, away from the Slytherins. "What a bastard," growled the Finn, in Swedish so that only he and Berwald would understand. "Don't listen to him, he's just a nasty person by nature."

Berwald nodded, still missing the point of the whole argument. For someone who looked sixteen, he was still somewhat innocent.

* * *

"Is that your real hair?"

Freyr nodded tiredly, running his hand through it, making it even messier than usual. These girls obviously didn't mind though. He was sitting on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, with two girls on either side of him and three sitting on the rug, gazing up at him adoringly. It was a little unsettling for the rather introverted Icelander. The girl on his right, who a blonde with very light blue eyes, actually reached out to touch his hair, and Freyr fought off the urge to flinch and push her away.

"And you're from Iceland?" another girl asked in awe, as if he was from Neptune instead of a country just a few hundred miles away. When Freyr nodded once more, she begged, "Say something in Icelandic!"

"Yes, say something in Icelandic!"

"Uh..." Freyr's mind went blank. "Um, _ég heiti Freyr_." To tell the truth, he felt uncomfortable speaking Icelandic around English-speakers, because it was so thickly-accented and hard to understand. The girls didn't care, however. They just gasped and asked him to speak more, much to his dismay.

On the other end of the common room, Mathias had pulled out Lukas' violin - which was charmed to play by itself - and was ordering it to perform various songs for the pleasure of the Gryffindors. It had just finished a rendition of one of the most famous Swedish songs of all time, _Mamma Mia_ by ABBA. After the listeners clapped and suggested other songs, Ron remarked, "That song wasn't really my cup of tea."

The English wizarding community was very removed from it's Muggles, with some never having contact with Muggle culture - be it electricity, machinery, literature, or music. In Scandinavia, things were much closer, and although the Muggles didn't know the truth about some of their favourite cultural icons, wizards and Muggles alike danced to the same music, wore the same clothes and read the same books. Here at Hogwarts only those in contact with Muggles, and the older students who studied Muggle Music, had heard the song before and could fully appreciate it.

"My parents used to love ABBA!" replied Hermione with a nostalgic laugh. "I remember them playing it around the house. Did your Aunt and Uncle ever do that, Harry?"

"Never. They called it 'trashy' and told Dudley that he was never allowed to have a Swedish girlfriend."

"Any requests?" announced Mathias, wand at the ready, bouncing on the balls of his feet with happiness at all the attention he was getting. He was thriving in the friendly atmosphere of the common room, which led Harry to believe that Durmstrang really wasn't all that nice. No wonder Tino had wanted to leave.

"Oh, _Take On Me _by A-Ha!" called Hermione.

"A-Ha, ABBA, what is it with these names?" muttered Ron. "They don't even make sense! Muggles..."

"You chose well, Hermione! As you wish!" Mathias waved his wand at the violin, "A-Ha's _Take On Me_!"

Those who knew the song laughed at the violin's attempt at recreating the complex synthesizer opening, while Purebloods cringed at what sounded like a horrifically messy piece of music. When it was time, Mathias finally burst in with,

"_We're talking away,_  
_I don't know what I'm to say_  
_I'll say it anyway!_  
_Today isn't my day to find you_ -" Surprise, surprise, on '_you'_ he pointed to Lukas, who had been hanging back in the shadows. With a roll of his eyes, the Norwegian put down the book he had been trying to read, but instead of moving to Mathias he went to Freyr, who was surrounded by girls, and pulled him away from them.

"_Shying away!_  
_I'll be coming for your love, okay?_"

"_Take on me_," Lukas sang, elbowing Freyr, who shook his head resolutely, blushing furiously.

"_Take me on_," the song was climbing in pitch and most of the people listening realised that Freyr's young, unbroken voice would probably be needed later.

"_I'll be gone -_ " When it became evident that Freyr wasn't going to open his mouth, Lukas scowled and dropped an octave.

"_In a day or two_."

"_So needless to say_," Mathias continued, dancing around and holding an imaginary microphone. Meanwhile, Lukas was holding Freyr's arm and whispering something into his ear that was just making Freyr look more irritated.

"_I'm odds and ends_  
_I'll be stumbling away_  
_Slowly learning that life is OK_  
_Say after me_  
_It's no better to be safe than sorry!"_

_"Take on me,_" Lukas got the line just in time, having been so busy badgering his younger brother that he almost missed his cue.

"_Take me on_  
_I'll be gone_  
_In a day or two_."

The violin started playing crazily, and Berwald and Tino chose that moment to enter the common room, fresh and pink-cheeked from the sauna. They had obviously heard the song many times, from the way Tino grinned and starting jigging to the beat. Lukas mouthed something to the Finn, who frowned sadly and mouthed something back, a questioning look on his face. Two fingers were pointed at Freyr as the music reached it's climax. Berwald and Tino hurried forwards and joined in the cajoling for about twenty seconds before Mathias started singing again,

"_Oh the things that you say_  
_Is it live or_  
_Just to play my worries away?_  
_You're all the things I've got to remember_  
_You're shying away_  
_I'll be coming for you anyway!_"

"_Take on me_," Berwald joined Lukas this time, his voice providing the perfect amount of depth for the single line before the Norwegian continued alone.

"_Take me on_ -"

"_I'll be gone_ -" Freyr finally plucked up the courage to join in. His face was scarlet, his eyes tightly shut, but his voice was... amazing.

"In a day or two."

He held the highest note for a long time, while his audience sat awestruck. When both he and the violin finally fell silent, there was a pause before the whole common room burst into applause. Freyr even cracked a small, embarrassed smile before he ran for the dormitory, successfully evading his fan-girls who were now gushing about his voice as well as his looks.

* * *

Finally, at two in the morning, peace reigned in the common room. Only the Finn and the Swede were left sitting by the fire, their peers having either gone to bed or gone home for the holidays. Tino was gazing into the pretty flames with a tired but happy expression on his face - Berwald was gazing at Tino with the same look. When Tino finally realised that he was being watched, he turned to his taller friend and asked, "What?" with a smile.

"Just," Berwald paused. "Really love you."

"What is this, Berwald?" sighed Tino. He shifted so that he was fully facing the Swedish boy. "Are we a couple, friends-with-benefits, what? I mean, I'm not really sure about myself right now, and I don't..." he trailed off, hoping that Berwald would be able to understand what he meant. Tino definitely knew that he liked Berwald, and he knew that kissing him had felt good... wonderful, even. But everything else was just mix of emotions that he didn't really understand.

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

There was a pause. "As your partner?" Tino asked, frowning slightly.

Berwald nodded. Of course as his partner, what else?

"Oh, Sve... Not that I don't want to go with you, but do you think it would be alright?" After all, just because Harry, Ron and Hermione were so accepting of his kiss with Berwald, that didn't mean everyone else would be. The students of Hogwarts didn't come across as particularly homophobic, but how could Tino be sure? Especially after his Nordic friends were gone and he would be alone at the mercy of any such homophobes. Tino remembered Malfoy's revulsion at the idea of him and Berwald being naked together.

"Why wouldn't it be alright?" The hopefulness in Berwald's eyes finally swayed Tino, who leaned over and pecked the Swede on the lips.

"Okay, I'll go," he grinned. "But I'm leading the dances!"

Berwald took Tino's face in his hands and kissed him again, but this time it wasn't just a peck. It was slow and romantic, and quickly built up to something more passionate. Tino wrapped his arms around Berwald's waist, not realising that the balance of gravity was becoming dangerously one-sided until his Yule Ball partner fell on top of him, pressing him into the couch as they continued to kiss.

* * *

"Told you!" Mathias whispered triumphantly into Lukas's ear, as they finally stopped spying on their friends - once the hardcore kissing had started, they had called it a night since they didn't want to see _everything__. _"I told you that would happen! I can predict the future - bow to my otherworldly powers!"

"Be quiet," murmured Lukas, rolling over so that his back was to his friend. "I want to sleep."

Unknown to all four Nordics, there were two more Gryffindors still awake.

"We haven't pranked any of those those Scandinavians yet, have we?" whispered Fred Weasley, a mischievous grin on his face. George Weasley shook his head, mirroring his twin's expression, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"They'll be in for a shocker tomorrow morning... when they wake up are girls!"

* * *

**Please vote on the poll and/or leave a review telling me which people you want to see changed into girls in the next chapter!**

**Oh, and contrary to usual, Mathias and Lukas are just bros in this fic. The only proper couple is Berwald and Tino.**

**Headcanon: Iceland had a great voice! As in, Sigur Ros kind of great~**

**Thanks for reading, leave a review, and have a good day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, this chapter was a bit delayed since I've become ever so slightly addicted to roleplaying. I'm currently in a long, smutty and very enjoyable rp as fem!Sweden, so naturally I've been besieged by plot bunnies of fem!Sweden in various situations. It was so hard not to write Berwald as Svea in this, but one thing must be made very clear for this chapter:**

**Their bodies are female, but their minds are still male. All their memories are of being boys. They are essentially boys trapped in girl's bodies.**

**Since the highest poll result was all the Nordics being genderbent, I have done so - but the second highest was Tino alone, so poor Finny has been saddled with the worst of being a girl. Poor baby.**

**And with that, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Mathias let out a yawn as he drifted into awareness. As usual, he had kicked his way out of his sleeping bag, feeling too hot during the night even though he slept shirtless. His whole body ached for some reason, especially his chest. It felt like he had done a major workout, but he didn't think too much about it as he brought his hands up to his face to rub his eyes. Ugh, there was something on his chest in the way. The Dane looked down, and his eyes popped.

_He had boobs._

This had to be a dream! He grabbed the globs of flesh, squeezed them tightly to make sure they were real and winced as they started to ache. Didn't pain in dreams make you wake up? Frantically, he pulled down his pyjama bottoms and let out a demented cackle - which was more like a giggle now that his vocal chords had shrunk - as he confirmed it. He was a girl.

He scrambled up, accidently kicking Lukas while he was at it. Wait, Lukas? All Mathias could see was a mane of long, fine blonde hair. He giggled again, and looked to Freyr, who was whispering quietly in his sleep. _Or should I say _her_ sleep?_ thought Mathias with a smirk, since Freyr was quite clearly an eleven-year-old _girl_ now. His hair had grown out to his shoulders, his eyelashes longer, and his jaw was rounder. Speaking of hair, Mathias could feel his own brushing his shoulder blades. It was weird - nothing felt quite real. Maybe that was why he was just grinning madly and sniggering at the fact that him and his friends seemed to have swapped genders overnight.

"Ugh, Mathias -" A low yet melodious voice groaned. Then there was a cough, and another, "Mathias,". Lukas had woken up. The Norwegian boy rolled over in his sleeping bag, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, which now fell past his shoulders, halfway to his elbows. Mathias watched him freeze, and pull a lock of hair out in front of him. Mathias watched the look in his eyes go from sleepy to murderous in less than half a second.

"Holy shit!" he chortled, unable to contain himself any longer. "Your boobs are bigger than mine!"

* * *

Ten minutes of screams, curses, sobs and shocked silences later, everyone in the room was awake. Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ron and Harry were staring slack-jawed at the five girls who had suddenly appeared in their dormitory.

"No, no, no!" Tino was wailing, his hands flapping in distress as he paced up and down the room. He was now a plump, pretty girl with straight hair cut to his chin. His band t-shirt was straining over his new breasts, which were possibly the largest out of all the Nordics' and bouncing rather distractingly. "Why are we like this? Who did this?"

Berwald was sitting curled up on Tino's bed, arms wrapped around his knees. He had lost only a fraction of his height, but his limbs were now long and rather slim, his expression gentle, his hair tumbling down his back in a golden wave. His pyjama bottoms kept slipping down his smaller waist, but he pulled them up robotically. He seemed to be in shock.

"I think you guys are the victims of a pretty good prank," said Harry, trying not to look at Mathias, who was sprawled on his sleeping bag completely shirtless. The Dane was quite flat, sure, but they were still _there_.

"_Good prank?_" Lukas had been hiding in his sleeping bag, muttering rather ominously, but leapt up as soon as Harry spoke. He was slender and willowy, and although his facial features hadn't changed much, he now looked even more like Freyr, who had screamed and locked himself in the bathroom as soon as he had woken up. "_A good prank?_"

"I didn't mean good!" Harry exclaimed, nervous of Lukas' obvious fury - which was by no means muted, even on a girl's face. "I meant, er, powerful! A powerful prank!"

Lukas rounded on Mathias. "Put a shirt on," he hissed. "Nobody wants to see you like that."

"What?" Mathias cried. "Oh please, what's wrong with nudity?"

"It's wrong when I don't want to see you in a girl's body."

"Norge - " Mathias was interrupted by Tino throwing a t-shirt in his face.

"Just put it on!" The Finn was getting a bit hysterical. "We need to change back! How long does this last for? I don't want to be a girl!"

* * *

"It seems like a far more complex spell that a simple gender swap," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "That would have simply given you a female body. This spell has turned you into what you would have been like now, if you'd been _born _a girl."

"That's why m'hair's long," mumbled Berwald, fiddling with the edge of the long plait Hermione had managed to do for him. He, Tino, Mathias and Lukas were all wearing clothes of Hermione's that she had kindly altered for them, since they were all either taller or larger-breasted than the poor English girl. Luckily they had been able to get away with jeans and t-shirts, nothing too feminine.

"Do you know how to reverse it?" asked Tino, biting his lip and fiddling uncomfortably with his horribly necessary bra. "My back is starting to ache."

Hermione shook her head ruefully. "I think your best bet is to find the person who cast the spell and ask them."

"_Ask_ them?"

Lukas had been lying on Tino's bed, hands pressed over his face as if being unable to see his new body would mean it wasn't there. He suddenly sat up, and an almost evil smirk spread across his face. "I don't think I'll be _asking_ them." He began to crack his knuckles one by one, almost warming them up. "I most definitely will _not_ be _asking_ them."

"Err, I don't know if -" Hermione sounded worried, but the rest of her sentence was cut off by Lukas interrupting with, "My brother can't leave the bathroom because of his fear of being seen like this. It's not for selfish reasons that I'm doing this."

"_Shut up about me!_" Freyr shouted from the bathroom, in Norwegian so that Hermione couldn't understand. Lukas just rolled his eyes.

"_Get out here and put some clothes on_," he ordered. "_You can't stay in there all day_."

"_I can and I will! I'm not wearing a dress!_" shrieked Freyr. He sounded like a little girl having a tantrum, for a rather embarrassing reason. Since Hermione only had so many casual clothes, and all her jeans were already being worn, if Freyr had decided to get dressed he would have had to wear a skirt of some description.

"_Come on Frida_," cajoled Mathias, not noticing his slip-up until Freyr flung open the bathroom door. His hair was wild and his eyes were burning with anger.

"_Do not_," he growled, although he sounded significantly less threatening than he usually would, "_call me 'Frida'! I am not a girl!_"

"_Yeah, 'Marikke'_," Lukas agreed, trying to get back into his little brother's good books by ganging up on Mathias with him.

"_Alright Ingrid!_" laughed the Dane.

"_If anyone calls me 'Tiina' I will hex you all_," warned Tino, before switching back to English for Hermione's sake - the poor girl was just standing there looking rather confused. "I'm sorry about all this. Freyr just doesn't want to wear a skirt."

"I'll wear it."

Five head swivelled to Berwald, who was sitting on the edge of Tino's bed. He was the picture of an embarrassed girl, with hunched shoulders, tightly closed legs, and his long fingers playing with the end of his plait. But his tone was clear.

"Uh, Sve?" Tino wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly.

"I'll wear th'skirt so Freyr can have th'jeans."

* * *

And that was how Berwald ended up walking into the Great Hall wearing a dark blue embroidered skirt that just about brushed his knees, showing his now-smooth and shapely calves. No one, male or female, was bothering to disguise their stares, and it was fortunate that the students who weren't attending the Yule Ball had gone home, or some sort of riot would probably have broken out.

Tino, who usually ate bread and jam or other similar foods, immediately tucked into a hot bowl of porridge.

"My stomach hurts," he mumbled, pressing a hand to his abdomen. "Ugh, I must be just hungry..."

Hermione refrained from speaking, knowing with a sinking heart what must be happening to Tino.

"If I hear one more giggle," hissed Lukas, "I will destroy this entire room." He stuffed a piece of toast between his rosebud lips and met the eyes of the onlookers with a glare of such ferocious intensity that it seemed like a dark aura was exuding off him. He was sitting beside Berwald, who still looked rather detached and hadn't picked up anything yet. Freyr was on the Swede's other side, almost huddled against the older boy.

"I wonder who did this," remarked Mathias nonchalantly. His hair was beginning to rise up of it's own accord, into his customary spikes. Tino scanned the hall, shoveling porridge into his mouth almost desperately to numb the steadily growing pain in his stomach. Everyone was staring and it was making heat rise in his cheeks. Most looked downright shocked, but there were some variations - Luna Lovegood looked politely interested, but not particularly stunned, and Malfoy managed pull off a cross between smug and horrified without looking too idiotic. The same couldn't be said for Crabbe and Goyle however, who were gazing at Berwald with looks that made Tino feel slightly possessive.

Berwald was _his_ boyfriend, after all.

"Fred and George Weasely."

Lukas' head snapped around to Hermione, who was pointing discreetly at two lanky redhead boys who were definitely related to Ron Weasley. They kept looking at the Nordic girls - _ahem_, boys! - with amused and satisfied expression on their freckled faces. "They prank people all the time. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be your culprits."

Lukas's face went white with barely-concealed fury, and he turned his head, as if whispering to someone standing just behind him.

"No, Norge!" Mathias suddenly looked panicked, as did Freyr and Tino. "Don't do it!" He clapped a hand onto the Norwegian's shoulder, but it was shrugged off and ignored.

"Don't do what?" asked Hermione nervously.

"When Lukas's angry," murmured Berwald, "th'troll spirit comes."

"'_Troll spirit_'?"

Without warning, Lukas threw out his arm, brandishing it in an arc. A dark green glow was beginning to form around him, the shape of a craggy head slowly becoming clearer. He focused on Fred and George, and his murmuring became louder, building to a crescendo at which he shouted "_Hríð!_", his melodious female voice echoing around the Great Hall.

There were cries of surprise and fear as the green shape that had appeared around the Norwegian soared straight towards Fred and George - it could now be made out as the head and torso of a vaguely humanoid creature with wild hair, a huge nose and small fangs curling up from it's bottom jaw. One of it's massive, dustbin-lid sized hands pushed the twins off the bench and pinned them to the stone floor by their throats. They wriggled desperately in it's grip, but the troll spirit was immovable.

"_Stop!_" Professor Dumbledore rose at the teacher's table, and send a wordless spell shooting at the troll. It froze when the flash of pink light hit it, stunned, allowing Fred and George to escape, scrambling to their feet and rubbing their sore necks. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked the three standing figures - the two redheads and Lukas. He didn't look angry, but intrigued.

The troll spirit let out a shudder, and dived back behind Lukas, vanishing. All eyes were on the Nordic boy, and he brushed his long, silky hair back before stating, "Revenge."

"Johansson?" Karakaroff's eyes were bulging in disbelief. "Is that you, boy?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Lukas sent a vicious glare at the twins.

"Well," Karakroff coughed awkwardly, looking at Dumbledore.

"You give that boy _far_ too much freedom, Igor," Snape couldn't help but remark snidely. "Obviously this _incident_ should serve as a _lesson_ that even the most _well-raised_ of young wizards can _deviate_ without _proper discipline_."

"They turned us into girls!" snarled Lukas, gesturing to his brother and his three Nordic friends - Tino was frozen with a spoon of porridge halfway to his mouth, scarlet with embarrassment, while Freyr was all but hiding his face in Berwald's shoulder and Mathias looked rather confused, as if he had walked in on the situation partway through and had no idea what was going on. There were a few nervous giggles, but everyone was all too aware of what Lukas was capable of and didn't want to anger him.

"With all due respect, Professor Dumbledore," Karkaroff said quickly, "I think the blame for this situation lies with your students. Lukas Johansson is an exemplary student, never unusually violent, and would never normally react in such a manner to anything less than... well, being jinxed in this way!"

Mathias snickered quietly. "You should see him when you wake him up in the middle of the night!"

Lukas pinched the Dane hard, but discreetly enough that Karkaroff's vouching for him appeared completely sound.

Dumbledore inclined his head politely. "I understand, but I think that Mr. Johansson needs to take a fair amount of responsibility, seeing as it was his troll that attacked the Misters Weasley." He then turned to the boys in question. "I think that punishment is unnecessary, but apologies from both parties are in order, and Misters Weasely, your spell needs to be reversed as soon as possible." His tone was quite calm, but if anyone was close enough they would have been able to see the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. There were so many perks to being headmaster of a school of such characters, the old wizard thought to himself.

"Sorry," chorused the twins, smiling rather hopefully at Lukas and hoping he wouldn't attack them again.

"... I apologise too," replied Lukas in a frosty tone which implied quite the opposite. "I'm going outside," he muttered to his friends, before stalking out of the Great Hall, his hair fluttering behind him, seemingly oblivious to all the eyes following him. Once the doors slammed shut behind him, Fred and George sat back down and breakfast resumed, suddenly full of chatter about what had just happened now that there was no chance of a nasty punishment for gossiping.

* * *

"My brain is starting to hurt," yawned Tino, stretching. He was doing homework in the library with Berwald, since he hadn't done any for two days, as busy as he was trying to control his friends. Lukas hadn't come back inside since breakfast nearly two hours before even though it had to be freezing out in the snow, Mathias had evidently found something more 'fun' to do, probably playing a dangerous game like Exploding Snap, and Freyr was hiding somewhere with a book.

"You should rest," said Berwald, reaching out and resting his hand over Tino's. Both of them now had smaller, softer hands, but Berwald's fingers were still long, a few slightly crooked from various accidents with hammers and such he had had when he was younger. Berwald had always loved carpentry, and Mathias and Lukas had told Tino plenty of stories about Berwald breaking his fingers, or, in one particularly hair-raising tale, hammering a nail through his thumb. Tino had to admit that the feeling of that strong hand around his made him feel warm and tingly.

"Mm, I think I just need a break from _work_." Tino sent a particularly suggestive look to his boyfriend. "Do you want to take a walk, Sve?"

Berwald nodded, cheeks tinting pink. He found it harder to control his facial expressions as a girl, for some reason. He stood up, and grabbed Tino's bag, intent on holding it for him.

"Berwald! Honestly, you're too nice. Someone might take advantage of you, you know," Tino laughed, poking Berwald in the arm. When the Swede refused to relent, Tino packed his books away with a sigh and decided to let him carry the bag.

They left the library, and began to walk in no particular direction. Tino was all too aware of the looks Berwald was getting. He really did make a beautiful girl, at least in the textbook sense of the word - pretty face, shiny hair, good-sized breasts, long legs and swaying gait. Your stereotypical Swedish woman. But Tino didn't want people to be thinking that as they looked at Berwald. So, in a rather uncharacteristic display of a feeling he had never really felt before - possessiveness - he latched onto Berwald's arm.

Well, girls walked around arm in arm all the time, and since they had girls' bodies now, nobody would think it was weird, right?

Berwald started a little when he felt the sudden touch. Tino had never been like this before, although he was becoming more open to hugs and the like, now that they were together. He couldn't say he _disliked_ the feeling of Tino's warm hand on his arm, so he kept walking with a small, benign smile.

When they came across some bathrooms, Tino pulled on Berwald's arm with an almost... _coy_ smile on his face. "Can we go in here, Sve?" he asked, his high female voice sugary-sweet. He made for the male bathrooms, but caught himself just in time. "Never going to get used to this," he muttered, pushing open the door to the girls'.

It was pretty much identical to the boys, but without urinals, and thankfully empty. Tino went to the sinks, raking his hands though his chin length hair. "_Never_ going to get used to this," he repeated, looking at himself in the mirror, all big eyes and curvy figure, and smiling ruefully. "The twins will fix us soon, I hope!"

Berwald nodded, wondering why Tino had brought them in here. Surely not just to critique his new body? He got his answer when Tino turned back to him and gave him a hug, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Tino?"

"Well, I wasn't going to do this out there," Tino chuckled, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Berwald's throat. Their height difference had remained the same, much to Tino's disgruntlement, so he still had to stand on tiptoe to pull his boyfriend's face down to his and capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

It felt a little different, with breasts pressed between them and softer lips locked together, but their chemistry hadn't changed. Soon they were becoming more passionate, and when they had to break off for air, Berwald tugged Tino towards one of the empty cubicles. "Sit down?"

Soon Tino was perched on Berwald's lap, and the two were kissing with a fierce intensity that was only getting stronger. Their tongues were tangled and the sounds of their quiet moans were echoing slightly around the tiny cubicle. Berwald pulled away from Tino's mouth to graze his lips along the Finn's jaw and down his neck, nibbling there to leave a lovebite.

"Berwald - " Tino breathed, eyes closed and chest heaving.

Then they froze as they heard the door of the bathroom swing open.

"I mean, how is it that a bunch of boys turned girls are fitter than me?" They could see two sets of legs under the door, crowded at the mirrors, both wearing jeans and trainers. "It's not exactly fair, is it?"

"I think you're pretty, Sophie," came the voice of the other girl.

"Aww, thanks! Have you seen the _tall_ one? _Whoa_, she could be a model, I swear."

"The other tall one, the one with no boobs, she could be too, I guess." Both the girls giggled, evidently unaware of Berwald and Tino's presence.

"The one with the troll, she looked like a bit of a bitch. No offense, but she did!"

"_Sophie!_" the other girl hissed. "I think there's someone _in there_." The bathroom went silent, and Tino shot a nervous look at Berwald - flushed, with crooked glasses and lips swollen from kissing. It was only too obvious what they had been doing.

"Hello?" the one named Sophie called, sounding hesitant and a little embarrassed. "Is there someone in there?"

After a few awkward seconds, Tino stood up, brushed down his clothes, and opened the door, averting his eyes and blushing. He slipped out of the cubicle and Berwald followed, face expressionless. The two girls stared at them, their make-up bags forgotten. They were either fourth- or fifth-years. One of them had fair skin, brown hair in a thick ponytail and bright blue eyes, while the other had a slightly more Asian appearance, with almond-shaped eyes, honey-brown skin and dark curls.

"Um..." Tino fumbled for an answer, reddening even more when he caught sight of his reflection - tousled hair and the darkening lovebite on his neck clearly visible. "We sort of... came in... and when we heard you, we, um, p-panicked! And ran into the cubicle!" A glance at Berwald had the Swede nodding hurriedly in agreement, even though the girls would have had to be downright stupid to believe the obvious lie. "And we'll just be going now, sorry for disturbing you, bye!"

He grabbed Berwald's hand and practically fled the bathroom.

"Sheena?" Sophie turned to her friend, with a clear look of _I have no idea what to think _on her face. "That was Tino and his mate, wasn't it? Were they _kissing_?"

* * *

Lukas was sitting, wrapped up in his coat and scarf, in the snow beside the Great Lake. He could sense the powerful presence of the Giant Quid below it's icy surface, and it comforted him. He was beginning to feel pleasantly numb, but he knew deep down that it wasn't particularly beneficial to his health to sit out in the cold for hours, even if as a girl he now had more fat to insulate himself.

Resigned to having to go back inside, he stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth, blowing hot air onto the pink digits. His boots crunched along the crisp path back to the castle, and Lukas was feeling rather content when he looked up and saw a figure approaching him. A boy with white-blond hair, steely grey eyes and the haughty expression of someone raised to believe that the world was theirs for the taking.

Lukas's contentment was shattered.

"Johansson!" called the boy. "I'd like a word."

"You've just had your word," Lukas replied dryly. He really didn't want to talk to anyone, especially since as a girl he didn't feel like he could uphold his dignity.

"Very clever." The boy stopped in front of him, a foot away. "Your English really is quite good, you know. Where are you from again?"

"Norway. What's your point here?"

"Well." Draco Malfoy had planned this meeting, but suddenly he was at a loss for words. He had viewed Lukas Johansson from afar over the previous two days - his appearance, the way he spoke and the way he carried himself, even his _name_, spoke of an old, noble, and very Pure family. The fact that he had Karkaroff in the palm of his hand only strengthened this suspicion. Draco knew that this boy might be a useful connection to have in the future, and his father would surely be impressed with his audacity. And even as a girl, Draco couldn't deny that Lukas was formidable. A very useful connection indeed.

Plus, with the whole troll incident that morning, he didn't fancy getting on the foreign boy's bad books.

"I was wondering, since we come from the same circles," he said smoothly, slipping into his practiced speech, "whether we may like to be... acquaintances."

"Acquaintances." The Norwegian seemed to be testing the word. "Since we come from the same circles. Which circles would those be?"

"Old wizarding familes and all that." Draco pulled out a charming smirk. "I do recognise the name Johansson - I think my father probably knows yours." It was a complete lie, he had no idea whether his father had any connection to any Scandinavians, but it was always a good card to play.

"Perhaps. What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, I'm Draco Malfoy." The English boy held out a hand in a businesslike handshake offer. "I just think that wizards of the same values should come together."

"As opposed to what?" Lukas ignored the hand, his ultramarine eyes fixed on Draco's. Draco didn't let his hand drop - this was a test, he could tell - but was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

"Being tainted by blood-traitors and Muggles," he replied instantly, his lip curling as the familiar words rolled off his tongue. "I must say, your Finnish friend is walking a thin line by leaving Durmstrang and getting chummy with Potter and his crew of misfits. I'm sure you will be able to help him back onto the right path," he added, knowing that a bit of flattery could go far.

With most people.

"I'd like you to know that Tino has some of the strongest morals of any person I've ever met," Lukas said bitingly. "Much more than those two fat friends of yours. Berwald Oxenstierna happens to be like a brother to me and I don't appreciate anyone _eyeing_ him like that." _Especially since he's taken_, but Lukas didn't say that.

"Idiots will be idiots," said Malfoy dismissively, not vouching for Crabbe and Goyle in any way. As far as he could see, they had just impeded his deal with Johansson. He wanted the allegiance of the intimidating Norwegian - better as a friend than an enemy, he reasoned. "But we know better, don't we?"

His hand still hung in the air between them. Lukas's eyes flickered between it and the face of the body it was attached to.

"You want us to be... acquaintances." His tone dripped with something akin to sarcasm, and it took all of Draco's self-control not to blush. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of such treatment! After a few heavy seconds, while their breath curled up in clouds of mist into the grey sky, Lukas gripped Draco's hand with his icy fingers.

"Fine." The barest hint of a smirk curled on the edge of his lips. How he would enjoy messing with this person. He could already see Draco's eyes widen at the sheer temperature of his hands, which by all rights should be blue by now. "I'll see you at the Yule Ball."

And with that, he slipped his hand from Draco's grasp and walked away.

* * *

"So you're saying," said Mathias slowly, "that you don't know how to reverse the spell." His shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, his face-framing layers sticking out in all directions.

"Not quite!" Fred said quickly. "The spell will wear off naturally, twenty-four hours after it was cast."

"So you're looking at being back to normal at about two in the morning," continued George.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," said the twins in unison.

"Well, pretty much positive," beamed George.

"Ninety-nine percent," Fred added with a thumbs-up.

"That's good enough for me!" laughed Mathias. "It's weird, being a girl for a day. I mean, I feel... different! Tino started crying a few minutes ago for like, no reason, and Berwald's face is waaaaaay less scary than it used to be."

"Good for you, mate." Fred patted Mathias on the arm, eyes darting around the common room.

"But listen, don't tell Lukas, will you?" asked George in an almost pleading tone, looking almost as nervous as his twin. "We don't fancy getting attacked again."

And with that, the twins ran off.

* * *

"I'm sorry Sve!" wailed Tino, face buried in his pillow, arms wrapped around himself. Berwald was perched on the edge of the bed, completely at a loss for what to say or do. Tino never had mood swings like this. "I just - I just feel terrible! I just want to lie here and eat salmiakki..." he trailed off with a sniffle. Always the loving boyfriend, Berwald grabbed Tino's bag and fetched him a box of the salty sweets. Tino took it with a watery smile, and popped one into his mouth.

"You're so good to me," he sighed. "I'm surprised you didn't just dump me there are then."

"It was an _accident_," Berwald repeated. Really, he was sure Tino hadn't meant to knock over the entire flagon of pumpkin juice straight onto Berwald's plate and into his lap. It had been a bit mean of Mathias to burst out laughing and Lukas to tut and say _clumsy _in such a patronising tone. Tino had overreacted a little by bursting into tears and running out of the hall, but surely all the hormones that must be flying all over the place inside him were to blame.

All Berwald could say was that he hoped Tino got his male body back soon. His cute little boyfriend was really getting the short end of the stick when it came to being a girl.

"I think I'll just lie here for a while," murmured Tino. "My back really hurts. Maybe I'll feel better after a little sleep. Don't feel like you have to stay with me, Sve."

"But - "

Tino made a shooing motion with his hand, before wiping his eyes and shoving another few pieces of salmiakki into his mouth. "Go and enjoy yourself in the common room. I'll be fine here with my duvet and my sweeties."

"If you're sure." Berwald kissed Tino's forehead - as much as he adored the Finn, he abhorred the taste of salty liquorice - and left the room. Tino let out a long sigh, curled up under his covers, and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Can you see the fairies too?"

Freyr jumped out of his skin, almost dropping his book. Damn, he had thought he was invisible here, in this tiny nook in the library! But he'd been completely unable to concentrate on the epic saga, and had been off in a daydream. The voice that jerked him out of it was light and rather dreamy - it was almost like a high pitched version of his older brother's, in a very creepy way. Freyr glanced up at the source of the voice and saw a girl with long, pale hair, big eyes, and a necklace with a pendant that looked like some sort of vegetable.

"W-What?" He pressed himself further back against the wall. "Fairies?"

"You are Lukas Johansson's younger brother, aren't you?" Her eyes ran over him, from his messy hair to his borrowed jeans. "Freyr, is that your name?"

"How did you know that?"

"Your brother asked me to the Yule Ball." The girl settled herself on the edge of the alcove. "I'm Luna, Luna Lovegood. And Lukas has the Sight, I was wondering if you had it too."

"The Sight?" Oh no, Lukas had found another nutter to share stories with. But... the Yule Ball? Had his seemingly asexual brother, the very opposite of a normal fifteen-year-old boy, finally found a girl?

"Your head was full of Wrackspurts just how," Luna said kindly. "They probably swarmed because they can sense your confusion about your new body." Her tone took on that of a teacher or mother explaining the facts of life to a little child. "There are probably lots of changes happening to you that you don't understand, but I can completely empathise."

Freyr felt his face flood with red. "I - I'm not going to be like this forever!" he squeaked. Luna just raised her pale eyebrows rather ominously.

"You never know with these types of spells. One things goes wrong, and you're stuck."

"Ah... you were saying about fairies?" Freyr desperately wanted to change the subject now, faced with the horrifying idea that he might, in fact, be a girl forever. Even talking about the mythical beings that he wasn't sure he totally believed in - although he couldn't dispute Lukas's troll spirit's existence.

"Oh yes!" Luna seemed to brighten a little. "Well, where can I start?"

* * *

The Nordic boys-turned-girls had fallen exhausted into their respective beds and sleeping bags, after carefully changing in the bathrooms away from the eyes of Harry and the rest of their roommates. After some appalling stomach cramps Tino had been forced to go to Madame Pomfrey for a painkiller, and to his utmost horror had been told that he was probably going to start menstruating soon. Luckily, before he could have a full scale panic attack, he was knocked out by the potion and had to be practically carried to bed by Berwald.

Mathias had been forced to wear a t-shirt to bed by Lukas, who seemed oddly not-irritable for some reason that they all had yet to fathom. Maybe being a girl had mellowed him a little? The Dane and Norwegian were sleeping side by side, Mathias snoring as usual and Lukas letting out the occasional "_Føkk deg!_" in his sleep, which sounded far too much like the English to be mistaken for anything else.

And Freyr... well, he had stumbled back from wherever he was with a faintly shell-shocked expression, and had refused to talk to anyone.

Tino jolted awake in the middle of the night, feeling like he had severe pins-and-needles all over his body. The uncomfortable weight on his chest was gone, as was the heaviness in his abdomen! Shoving a hand down his pants, he realised with relief that he was a boy again. Rolling over, he saw the handsome, perfect face of Berwald, now also a boy again, cracking open one eye.

"Sve!" he cried, throwing his arms around the Swedish boy and kissing his cheeks. "I'm back!" Gone was his dark mood - all he wanted to do now was snuggle with Berwald.

"Mm, glad," murmured the taller boy, wrapping his arms around Tino. They were both definitely male again, as Berwald could feel when Tino rolled onto him, straddling him, and started kissing him like his life depended on it.

"Ooh, boys!" The couple weren't the only two who had woken up - Mathias, unfortunately, had sat up and was watching his friends make out. "Keep it suitable!" he said in a high falsetto, flapping his hand. "We don't want the little children to have their minds corrupted!"

"Shut up and go to sleep," muttered Lukas, elbowing the Danish boy viciously. But when Berwald let out a quiet moan as Tino's mouth went to his neck, Lukas also sat up and shot them a glare. "Berwald! I don't want to hear it! Keep it silent or don't do it at all!"

_You speak for us all, mate, _thought Harry, who had been woken up by the sudden noise and most definitely didn't want to hear anything of the sort from the bed beside his.

* * *

**Longest chapter to date, and most of it was written in one evening! **

**Reviews make me extremely happy~ next comes the Yule Ball chapter! So far, only Fin, Sve and Nor have dates. Who do you think the two remaining Nordics should go with? Say in your review!**

**Oh, and if you like the extremely rare pairing of Finland x Norway, I recently uploaded 'A Shaft of Light', my latest AU oneshot that I'm thinking of continuing ^^ I really like the dynamics of their relationship! Even though SuFin is completely my OTP.**

**I've also got a lot of oneshot ideas, specifically historical, for SuFin, if anyone wants to read more of that fluffy stuff :3**

**Once again, my hugs and love to anyone who has been following this story, and my gratitude for your continuing support! I couldn't do it without you guys :D**


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